287
Notices to Correspondents. 287
Advertisements. 288

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NOTES.

RIOTS OF LONDON.

Seventy years having passed away since the riots of London, there cannot
be many living who remember them, and still fewer who were personally in
contact with the tumultuous throng. Under such circumstances, I venture
to offer for introduction into your useful and entertaining miscellany
some incidents connected with that event in which I was either
personally an actor or spectator--things not in themselves important,
yet which may be to some of your readers acceptable and interesting as
records of bygone days.

The events of 1780, in themselves so terrific, were well adapted to be
written indelibly on the memory of a young, and ardent boy. At any age
they would have been engraved as with an iron pen; but their occurrence
at the first age of my early boyhood, when no previous event had claimed
particular attention, fixed them as a lasting memorial.

The awful conflagrations had not taken place when I arrived in London
from a large school in one of the midland counties in England, for the
Midsummer vacation. So many of my school-fellows resided in the
metropolis, or in a part of the country requiring a passage through
London, that three or four closely-packed post-chaises were necessary;
and to accomplish the journey in good time for the youngsters to be met
by their friends, the journey was begun as near to four o'clock A.M. as
was possible.

The chaises, well crowned with boxes, and filled with joyous youth, were
received at the Castle and Falcon, then kept by a Mr. Dupont, a
celebrated wine merchant, and the friend of our estimable tutor. The
whole of my schoolmates had been met by their respective friends, and my
brother and I alone remained at the inn, when at length my mother
arrived in a hackney-coach to fetch us, and from her we learned that the
streets were so crowded that she could hardly make her way to us. No
time was lost, and we were soon on our way homewards. We passed through
Newgate Street and the Old Bailey without interruption or delay; but
when we came into Ludgate Hill the case was far different; the street
was full and the people noisy, permitting no carriage to pass unless the
coachman took off his hat and acknowledged his respect for them and the
object for which they had congregated. "Hat off, coachee!" was their
cry. Our coachman would not obey their noisy